Hunger
by Sam.J.Eller
Summary: Dean struggles to protect Sam from something that cannot be hunted and killed, something that destroys you from the inside out. Hunger. Weechesters/Teenchesters. One-Shot. Sick/Sam and Protective/Dean.


Note: For the wonderful **PriWinchester,** because every now and again we need to be reminded that there is _always_ a reason to keep fighting, we need only to find it.

This story also has a small link to my fic "Before Everything" if you're interested.

* * *

Sam was hungry.

I could tell.

Not just because I knew that neither of us had eaten a substantial amount of food in the past few weeks, or any food at all for the past few days

Not just because I had helped him punch an extra hole in his belt this morning.

Or because I could literally hear the kid's stomach grumbling day in and day out.

No.

I could tell my little brother was hungry because of the changes in his personality.

The twelve year old was not his energetic, talkative self. He was sullen and reserved. He didn't come home and tell me all about what happened in school, he didn't excitedly share information about whatever book he currently had his nose buried into, he didn't roll his eyes at my annoying comments, Sam didn't do much of anything really.

That's what hunger did to you.

Real hunger.

It stole your energy, made even the smallest things seem like tasks of great difficulty.

It also tainted any amount of joy that could be found.

Every smile was accompanied with the constant ache in your gut, reminding you how long it had been since you hate eaten anything of substance.

I shook my head, hoping to knock the depressing thoughts loose as I entered the grocery store.

I was thankful that Sam hadn't asked to accompany me and had been content to remain back at the motel reading. There was no way that the kid was unaware of how low our finances were, but I still didn't need him witnessing proof of just how broke we happened to be.

We had been stretching our funds two weeks longer than should have been possible. I had called Dad last week to let him know as much, but he had never picked-up.

John had warned me that he would be off the grid for this hunt. He was off somewhere in the Virginian mountains with Bobby and neither of them had been reachable for the past few weeks. Pastor Jim was in Israel on some sort of religious sabbatical.

It was just me and Sammy.

We had spent the past week surviving on bologna sandwiches, and the week before that had been mac & cheese, every possible rendition of it that I could think of.

I stared at the bread sitting on the shelf, frowning as I fingered the meagre amount of cash in my pocket. I grabbed the cheapest loaf and proceeded to wander down the aisle, averting my eyes from all the food I couldn't afford and ignoring the angry growl sounding from my stomach.

For nine days Sammy and I had been living off one meal per day. That was all we had been able afford. One sandwich to get your through twenty-four hours. We would eat it at school during lunch, because teachers often noticed when kids didn't bring a lunch, but they didn't seem to notice what the contents of said lunch were.

That was until Friday when we had run out of food completely.

I had been trying to get a job since we arrived in this stupid dead-beat town at the start of the month. Dad had left us enough cash for a couple of weeks, he had assumed he'd be back by then...but as per-usual, our father misjudged just how long his hunt would take. Our second week here he called and said he would be a couple more weeks, he had left a message on my cell while I was in class and by the time I was able to return his call, he wasn't answering. I hadn't been able to tell him that there was no way for me to make money here, that there was no job opportunities in this vacant town.

At the start of the week Sammy and I had pooled together our savings, or lack there of, and the pitiful amount of cash I had won in a poker game at school.

After paying for another week of staying in that hole-in-the-wall motel room, we were left with five dollars to spare.

Ten fucking dollars.

That money hadn't lasted long and was the reason we had gone without food for the entire damn weekend.

I had enough of it today and lifted a five dollar bill off a kid at school, I had been hoping for more but that was all the teen had.

I glared accusingly at the peanut butter, mentally adding the price of the container to the bread in my hand.

These prices were ridiculous.

That's the other thing about small towns, along with a complete lack of job opportunities, there were no large grocery stores just one small one that was independently owned and stupidly expensive.

I grabbed the smallest jar of peanut butter off the shelf, then I moved on to pick up the last item.

Orange Juice.

Sam loved orange juice and the kid could really use some, considering we hadn't eaten anything remotely healthy in way too damn long.

He needed some vitamin C, and maybe, this would even put a small smile on his face.

My little brother hated bologna, one could only eat so much peanut butter, and no matter how much he faked it, I knew he got tired of mac&cheese regardless of what I would add to make it interesting.

Sam had not been able to eat one thing that he enjoyed in nearly a month.

And the kid hadn't complained once.

He didn't complain when our groceries began to dwindle. He didn't complain when we could only afford one meal a day. Sam hadn't even complained when the fridge and cupboards went entirely bare.

He hadn't complained once about how hungry he was.

And that was just wrong.

Twelve year-olds were supposed to complain. They were supposed to bitch and whine and moan when they didn't get what they wanted. They weren't supposed to be okay with not having food. They weren't supposed to know that there was nothing that could be done about it.

They weren't supposed to silently accept hunger.

I had to consciously ease my grip on the bread as I realized I was clenching it. I grabbed the cheapest brand of OJ and made my way to the cash register.

I was furious that my little brother was suffering. My hunger was one thing, but Sam's...that was different.

That was unacceptable.

I had considered using th five-finger discount on multiple occasions, but I couldn't bring myself to do it, the risk was to great. Mind you, if I hadn't jacked some cash off the boy in my class today, I would have resorted to stealing, because Sam had already gone too long without food.

Theft was no longer my first choice though.

I got caught last time and ended up being sent to the boy's home. That couldn't happen again, not with Dad M.I.A. If I was caught, Sam would be left alone, or worse, he would be taken by child's services and shipped off to some home with people who didn't care about him.

People who couldn't protect him from all the things that went bump in the night.

People who weren't me.

I grimaced at the thought of being separated from Sammy as I unloaded my few groceries onto the counter.

I watched with disinterest as the cashier scanned the items. It was an older man, probably in his late fifties with grey hair, small glasses, and a beard. It was the same man that had been here every other time I had come for groceries. I figured he must have owned the place because he was the only one I ever saw in the store.

"Six dollars and thirty cents."

The announcement pulled me from my thoughts.

I pulled out my change and counted it again, which was completely unnecessary, I knew down to the penny how much I had...but maybe I was just hoping.

Five dollars and seventeen cents.

That was it.

I re-counted it three times before I was willing to admit defeat.

The older man made no comment as he watched me contemplate my options.

The obvious choice was to rid of the orange juice.

But the peanut butter would be easier to steal...if push came to shove, although I still wasn't liking that option.

I felt the cashier's eyes on me as I stood there, he didn't seem frustrated, just attentive.

"I'll just take the bread and the peanut butter." I said with a sigh.

I would need to figure out some way to get money, legal or not.

I wasn't about to let my baby brother starve any longer.

"Do you know how to sweep?"

I looked up at the question, focusing at the man before me.

"What?"

"Do you know how to work a broom?" He asked again.

"Yeah, sure. Of course. Why?"

I hadn't done a lot of sweeping in my life, but it was hardly rocket science.

The cashier placed all three of the items I had picked out into a bag and handed it to me.

"But I don't have enough." I stated in confusion.

"If you come here after school tomorrow and sweep this place, maybe do a few more odd jobs, we'll call it even. If you do a good enough job I might even hire you on, I could use some more help around this dump."

I was shocked in to silence, my mouth opening and closing a few times before I realized something.

"I can't, I have to watch my little brother." I said, shaking my hand at the bag still being held out in my direction.

Sam was okay to be on his own for a little while, but I didn't feel right leaving him alone for hours, especially not in the seedy motel room we were currently occupying.

The man looked thoughtful before speaking.

"You talking about the younger boy that came in here with you before? Small and shaggy-headed?"

I inwardly smirked at the description of Sam as I nodded an affirmative.

"Is he a nuance?" He inquired gruffly.

"No." I snapped back defensively.

I was surprised by the smile that flickered across the worn face.

"Good, then he can come along."

"He's just a kid, I can't make him-

"Not to work. Goodness that boy is what? Ten years old? There's no way I'd let him work in my store."

"He's twelve." I corrected without thought.

I smirked at the bewildered look the older man gave me.

"Well that's still much too young to be working. There's an office at the back. If you want the job you can bring your kid brother and he can hang out in there. Assuming that he is able to occupy himself?"

I couldn't hold back my chuckle at the question.

"Sammy? Oh yeah, he can read for hours. He's a total dork." I commented fondly.

"Good. It's settled then. I will see you after school." He declared, stretching the bag of groceries out closer toward me.

"Yes sir. I'll be here." I reported, taking the bag, not failing to notice the chocolate bars that had been tossed inside at some point during our conversation.

The cashier nodded and I turned to leave the store, practically running back to the motel in excitement.

I entered our room to see Sam sleeping on his bed.

He had been sleeping a lot lately, we both had.

Not having enough food crippled your energy, but even worse was that the only time your body didn't scream at you in hunger was when you were sleeping.

I glanced at the glowing letters on the nightstand, it was six pm.

I smiled, because we were having dinner tonight.

It didn't hit me until I was in the process of putting together the peanut butter sandwiches, just how sad it was that I was excited about getting to eat a meal.

I poured two glasses of orange juice, set our two chocolate bars and made three sandwiches, one and a half for each of us.

Sam was older now and he always made sure that the food was split equally. It made looking after him a hell of a lot more difficult. I could no longer convince him that I didn't need to take food to school because I would find something there.

No, Sam made sure every morning that we both took a sandwich to school, the little bugger would even check my back pack afterwards to be sure that I ate mine.

He went postal on Friday when he found out that I hadn't eaten. That I had given him the remainder of our reserves.

I don't know when my little brother thought it was okay for him to start taking care of me, but I'd be lying if I said it was all bad. Although for Sammy's sake I wish he still believed my lies, it made me feel good to know that the kid worried about me.

It made me feel loved.

Which I would never say aloud, because I'm not a chic.

I looked at the small kitchen table, a satisfied smile on my face as I walked over to my brother who was curled up on his right side.

"Sam? Hey Sammy, wake-up." I called out, gently patting his back, frowning as I could feel his spine through his sweater.

Dammit.

"Come one buddy. Wake up." I repeated.

"Dean?"

I couldn't help but grin at the typical first word from the sleepy kid.

It was three questions in one simple word: Are you here? Where are we? What do you want?

And it was what Sam said every time someone woke him.

"Yeah. Wake up sleepy-head. It's dinner."

Two murky hazel eyes stared over at me.

"Dinner?" He rasped.

"Yeah, you know that meal you eat after lunch?"

It was meant to be a mocking statement...but it had been over a week since either of us had dinner...that fact sort of stole the humour from the joke.

Sam sat up, his hair all askew as he groggily rubbed at his eyes.

I chuckled.

It was no surprise that cashier had thought the kid was ten years old, he sure looked it.

"Did you get the bread and peanut butter?" He asked.

"Yeah buddy, I got it. Come to the table, let's eat."

Sam sent me a quizzical look.

"Shouldn't we save it?"

I hated that my little brother worried about food.

"Save it for what?"

"I don't know, when we get really hungry?"

"Sam this is the second day you have gone without food. Trust me, you won't be getting any hungrier." I vowed.

"It's the third day for you." Sam pointed out miserably.

Clearly still pissed at himself for not catching that one.

"The point is, we are both hungry now and there's food on the table. So how's about we just eat it already?"

The twelve year-old looked sceptical, but the angry growl I could hear sounding from his stomach made his decision for him.

"Okay." He exclaimed agreeably as he climbed out of bed.

The kid looked even smaller swallowed up in sweats. I knew he was wearing them for the same reason I was sporting multiple layers, because of the cold. It's not that it was cold outside, actually the weather was fairly warm, but the lack of fat and energy prevented your body from holding any degree of heat. For the past couple weeks I could feel a constant chilling ache in my bones, and I knew that Sammy was feeling the same.

And that was what killed me.

I watched as Sam shuffled over to the table, and then he stood there, gawking at it.

"Dean." He whispered.

"Yeah."

"How'd you get all this?"

"I told you I was going to the store." I explained, perplexed by my brother's state of apparent shock.

"You didn't steal it did you?" He questioned in concern.

Sam always hated it when I stole things. I don't know why. He didn't even know what had happened last time I stole, the time I spent at the boys home remained a mystery to Sam. He didn't ask about it, not since that night him and Dad had picked me up. I think he understood that it was something no one wanted to talk about, and he had been happy enough just to have me back at the time.

I frowned at the memory of climbing into the Impala with my little brother in my arms and having our father tell me that the kid hadn't eaten or slept much the entire time I was away.

That was a couple months ago, and Sam had been just starting to gain back the weight he had lost in my absence...and now here he was losing even more.

"Dean?"

I was pulled from my thoughts, staring down at Sam as he looked up at me attentively.

"No Sam, no five-finger discount this time."

"You promise."

"Yeah, I promise. Now can we eat, or do you want to continue with your interrogation?"

Sam smiled brightly.

"Let's eat!"

"Good idea squirt."

Sam practically jumped into his chair, displaying more energy and enthusiasm than I had seen him express in weeks.

We both scarfed down our first sandwiches, then I started in on the half, noticing that my brother was just staring at his.

"What's wrong?" I asked, peanut butter coding the roof of my mouth.

"Do you want my other half?" The young boy asked, sliding the napkin the sandwich was sitting on over in my direction.

"No. That's yours. I'm eating my extra half."

"Yeah but...do you want this one to?"

"Why? Aren't you hungry?"

Sam gaze fell to the floor, which I took as a yes.

"Dude, just eat it. What's your problem?"

How the hell could a twelve year-old be this confusing? I wasn't this confusing when I was twelve.

"Don't you need it more?"

"Why would I need it more?"

"Cause you're bigger? And it's been longer since you've eaten?"

I would have laughed at my kid brother's reasoning, if he hadn't been staring up at me with such adoring eyes.

A lump appeared in my throat at the realization of what it was Sam was offering.

He was starving and no doubt longing for the extra half of sandwich, but he was willing to give that up for me, because he thought that I might need it more.

God this kid.

This stupid, self-sacrificing kid.

"I'm good Sammy, you eat it." I insisted softly, willing my voice not to crack.

"You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. Besides, how are you ever going to grow if you don't eat? You don't want to be a midget forever."

Sam scowled at my remark but eagerly reached for the rest of his dinner and wolfed it down. He chugged his orange juice upon finishing his meal, and then stared longingly at the chocolate bar on the table.

"You want to split it?" I asked, sipping on my orange juice, not realizing how much I had missed drinking anything other than tangy-tap water.

"Yes!" Sam practically squealed, reaching for the chocolate and immediately ripping it open.

He carefully split it in half, being sure that both sides were exactly equal before handing me my piece.

I bit into the milk chocolate, actually savouring the delicious taste before taking a second bit.

"It's going to melt before you eat it." I commented once I had nearly finished my half and Sam was just staring at his.

Sam quirked a smile before bringing the chocolate to his mouth and taking a tentative nibble, he swallowed loudly and then his face paled and he placed the treat back on the table.

"What's the-

Before I could ask Sam made a sound I would recognize anywhere, it was something between a croak and a gag.

Sam launched form his seat and booked it to the bathroom, as I followed close behind.

He barely made it into the small closet-sized room before he was hurling his barely-digested supper up and into the toilet.

"Shit." I cursed, watching my little brother's body arch and strain with every heave.

"Woah." I quickly reached out and grabbed Sam as his knees buckled, slowly easing his descent to the floor while he proceeded to hurl.

The kid's fingers white-knuckled the the edges of the porcelain bowl as he draped himself forward, his skull nearly smacking into the seat before I held it up with a hand on his forehead.

"Easy buddy, take it easy." I said, as though my words had the power to control Sam's stomach when it rebelled against him.

My little brother gasped for breath in between violent heaves of nausea, his body shaking so hard in response to the sickness that I ended up having to literally hold him over the toilet bowl.

As I stood there, a trembling young boy in my arms, I realized how disturbingly thin the kid really was.

I knew he was losing too much weight, had seen how clothes that used to fit him properly started to hang off of him. I hadn't failed to notice the bones that were growing more and more prominent, protruding further and further from Sam's skin whenever he came out of the shower.

But I hadn't realized until I was supporting all of his weight with one arm around his chest and without even a remote strain on my muscles, that my brother was becoming dangerously thin.

Once Sam had purged all the contents of his stomach, including every damn drop of bile, he pushed away from the toilet with shaky arms and collapsed against me.

"I've got you Sammy. I've got you." I promised, holding Sam up against me as I reached for the sink, wetting a towel and dragging it across his face, washing away the sickness as well as the sweat and tears.

Sam worked to catch his breath, closing his eyes and resting his head back against my collarbone.

"Come on buddy. Let's get you to bed."

He nodded lethargically, forcing his weary limbs to cooperate as I walked him out of the room and supported him on the way to his bed.

Sam sat on the edge and I stopped him before he could fall over onto his side.

"Deeean." He whined petulantly, sounding about half his age.

"Sorry kiddo, I'm just going to get a fresh shirt on you." I explained, wrinkling my nose as I tugged off his puke-spotted sweater and his sweat soaked t-shirt.

I viciously clenched my jaw at the sight of my little brother's frighteningly thin frame.

I could count each of the kid's ribs, his collarbones were practically popping out of his skin.

"It's not just me you know?"

I tore my eyes from the young boy's torso and looked up from where I was squatted, staring into his focused hazel gaze.

"What?"

"C'mon Dean. I'm not an idiot. I'm losing weight and it's worrying you. But I'm not the only one."

"I don't know what you're going on about man." I shrugged, grabbing one of my warmest hoodies and handing it over to Sam who eagerly slipped into it.

"You don't think I've noticed how thin you're getting? None of your clothes really fit you anymore, you've had to punch new holes in your belt, you're losing weight."

Curse attentive little brothers.

"A lot more than I am actually. I just started skinnier so it's more noticeable on me."

I hated that we were even having this conversation.

That we even had to speak about the result of our meagre food intake over the weeks.

That we both seemed to notice how hunger was affecting the other brother more than ourself.

"Yeah well I'm working at the grocery store after school tomorrow, and if I do a good enough job I might get hired on and get some money."

Instead of the hope or relief I expected, Sam's face seemed to fall.

"What's up? You going to be sick again? Because dude, I don't think you've got anything left to puke up."

"No. I think I'm all done harfing for now. I'm just sorry that you have to work. It's not fair."

I balked at my brother's statement.

"It's a job Sam. It's a good thing. I'm sixteen years old, I can handle working at a grocery store, it's a lot easier than hunting."

"I know, I'm just sorry." He sighed, allowing me to push him into a horizontal position and cover him with the blanket.

"Don't be. I'm your big brother, it's my job to take care of you." I declared with a smile, because it was the best damn job in the world.

Sam sent me a soft dimpled grin.

"Dude did you say harfing?" I asked.

"What?"

"You said you were done harfing." I pointed out.

"I meant to say hurling but then I said baring and I sorta mixed them up."

I chuckled part way through Sam's sleepy explanation.

"S'not funny." He defended, his bottom lip popping out in a pout.

This kid always acted like a complete child whenever he was sick and/or tired.

"Oh trust me kiddo, it is." I laughed fondly.

"Don't make fun'o me. I'm tir'd."

"I know your are buddy. Get some sleep." I instructed gently, brushing his bangs off his face as I couldn't help but smile down fondly at him.

"All I do is sleep." He announced in protest, even as his eyelids already began to fall shut.

"Yeah I know. Kinda feels that ways doesn't it? Just close your eyes Sammy. Everything will be be better when you wake up." I lied with conviction.

Sam nodded compliantly, closing his eyes and curling up on his side. I moved to walk way when bony fingers grabbed my jeans.

I looked down at the young boy peeking up at me.

"Finish the chocolate bar."

I smirked.

"Nah, it's alright man. I'll save it for tomorrow when you're feeling better."

"No, I want you to have it. Please."

Not the "p" word, he knows I couldn't resist that word, or that tone, or those damn eyes.

"Sure buddy. Thanks!"

Sam smiled, as though he was the one who had just been given a gift, before pressing his head back into the pillow and drifting off to sleep.

Just a short while ago Sam had been practically vibrating in excitement to bite into the treat and now he was willingly giving it up to me.

I said it before and I'd say it again: Best damn job in the world.

But as I moved toward the table and picked up the chocolate bar that had been cast aside, my heat broke.

My baby brother was starving.

He had been so hungry that he had eaten too fast.

His body hadn't been able to handle all the additional food after so many days of being empty.

Everything was so fucked up.

Sam should never be so hungry that he can't help but scarf down his food.

He should never be so hungry that he can't handle a single meal in a day.

He should never be so hungry that he is left in a constant state of exhaustion.

I shook my head and clenched my fists.

This was my fault. I wasn't doing my job. I wasn't taking care of Sam. I needed to do better.

Hopefully I'd be able to land a job at the grocery store, but if not I would find another way to make money, hell I'd even go back to stealing if I had to.

Because I could live with the hunger. I could live with the constant scream of starvation sounding from my stomach. I could live with the overwhelming weariness or the lost weight.

I could handle it.

But I would not allow Sam to go through that same shit a second longer.

He was just a kid and he deserved better.

He would get better.

I refused to watch my baby brother suffer for another day.

"So what do you have to do?" Sam asked as he walked along on the sidewalk next to me.

"Sweep the store, probably some other cleaning stuff."

My brother nodded at my reply, apparently approving of the task.

"What do I have to do?"

I looked down quizzically at the kid, distractedly wondering if the twelve year-old was ever going to get any taller.

"Nothing. There's an office that you can hang out in. Do your homework or whatever."

"I can help." Sam offered.

"I know you can. But you won't. You're too young to be working. We'll just set you up in the office and you can spend the next few hours getting your geek-on."

Sam scowled at my description, but didn't argue with the game plan.

The store was just down the street from the school, the town was so small that pretty much everything was just down the street.

We entered the building, there were a handful of people wandering about inside, but it was Tuesday afternoon and apparently not prime-grocery shopping time.

I walked over to the counter, standing behind it was the cashier, the owner, the one who had offered me the job.

"Hello Sir." I greeted respectfully, pulling the man's attention away from the newspaper he had lain out in front of him.

"This isn't the military son, no need for that nonsense. You can call me Richard."

"Dean." I responded as I shook his hand.

"And this is Sam." I added, nodding down to my left where my little brother patiently stood.

Richard offered his hand.

"Nice to meet you Sam."

My brother smiled up at him and shook his hand in reply.

"You too Richard." He stated sweetly.

The older man's serious appearance faltered and for a brief moment a softer expression graced his worn face.

I smirked, knowing immediately that my little brothers floppy hair, puppy dog eyes, and impeccable manners had even the gruff grown-up hooked.

Richard quickly restored his mask of indifference as he released Sam's hand and walked us to the back of the store. He pulled the office door open and flicked on the light.

It was a small room, but it had a window that looked out onto the rest of the store, a desk, a computer, and a few filing cabinets shoved into the far corner of the space.

"You can sit here at the desk. The computer is on if you need it." The older man declared.

"Thank you."

Richard nodded tersely before turning to me.

"You follow me." He instructed as he exited the office.

"You good here?" I asked Sam.

"Yup." He said, dropping into the chair and sliding it up closer to the desk on which he had placed his book bag.

"Alright. Holler if you need anything."

"Okay."

I followed Richard over the the storage closet, he handed me a broom and a dustpan and told me to sweep the place and when I was finished to come find him for the next job.

I obediently got to work, making sure there wasn't a single speck of dirt to be found on the tiled floor before going to the older man and asking for my next task.

I had just completed my third job of the evening, washing the store windows, and was checking in on Sam when Richard appeared holding a box of pizza.

He dropped food on the desk and placed to bottles of water down next to it.

"Eat up boys." He said, lifting the lid to the box.

I shook my head at the offer.

"You don't have to-

"It's dinner time. You've been working hard. You need to eat." Richard declared casually.

Sam's eyes went wide as he got a look and a smell of the coveted meal, but before reaching for a piece he looked up questioning at me.

Silently asking if it would be alright, not only because we didn't often take food from strangers, but because the kid had already had toast for breakfast and a sandwich for lunch, and last time he had attempted to fill his stomach..it hadn't gone over so well.

"Just eat it slowly." I instructed softy.

Sam nodded obediently and grinned as he reached into the box, bringing a slice to his mouth and taking a small bite.

Richard glanced between me and my little brother, an unreadable expression on his face.

Before I could do so much as thank the older man for dinner, he vacated the office.

We both nibbled on the pizza, neither one of us having any desire to regurgitate the delicious food. I was able to put away two slices, while Sam managed one and a quarter.

I tried to not dwell on the fact that my brother's stomach had shrunk so much that he could no longer fit more than a minimal amount of food inside of it.

But it was a hard thing to forget.

A couple hours later I was re-stocking chips when Richard approached.

"It's time for you to head out." He announced.

"Alright, I'll just finish this-

"Don't bother, I can take care of it."

"It's okay I-

"Dean, don't worry about it. I'm closing up shop soon anyway. And your little brother is past ready to get out of here." The man said, nodding toward the office where you could see a shaggy head resting on the desk.

I smirked at the sight.

"Here."

I looked back at Richard as he held a wad of bills in my direction.

"What?"

"You worked hard. Here's your pay."

"No, that was for the groceries yesterday, and the pizza-

"Shut-up son. You boys were both hungry. You needed food, I gave you food. It's that simple. You worked hard, you earned this. Take it." He declared briskly.

I took the money, not seeing any other option, I'm pretty sure this man was stubborn enough to fight me on it.

"How did you know? About..about us needing food?" I questioned quietly.

Richard shrugged.

"I've watched you come in here a few times over the past several weeks. Each time you buy a little less, each time you've got less change in your pocket. I pieced it together. Besides, I grew up with a single mom and four brothers. I know what hunger looks like, and I know what it feels like." He explained, his eyes sliding in Sam's direction before returning to me.

"Thanks." I stated sincerely, unable to meet the man's steady gaze as I uttered the simple word,

The simple word that didn't seem like enough, but was all I had to give.

"You could thank me by coming back."

I snapped to attention at the comment.

"I'd like to hire you on, for as long as you're able. Come in Monday to Fridays after school, work from three until eight. Sound good?"

"Yeah, sounds great." I said, working to speak around the lump growing in my throat.

"Good. Now get that kid home before he drools all over my desk." Richard ordered gruffly.

I snickered.

"Will do." I nodded appreciatively at the generous man as I passed him, pocketing the stack of cash on my way to the office.

I couldn't help but smile fondly at the scene that was there to greet me.

My kid brother was sprawled across the desk. His head resting atop one of his numerous textbooks, long hair curtaining his eyes as he breathed softly.

I crouched down next to his chair and rested my palm on his narrow shoulders.

"Time to wake up Sammy." I announced softly.

As I knew it would, my little brother's shaggy head twitched in my direction before his eyelids slowly lifted.

He looked so damn exhausted.

Anger ran through me as I was reminded of how much I had failed my little brother, but I buried it back down so I could focus on the task at hand.

"Dean?"

"Hey kiddo. It's time to get going." I explained, waiting for the dazed hazel eyes to focus on me.

"Kay." Sam muttered, lifting his head off his books and glancing around the room lethargically, as though he was at a loss of what to do next.

I released an amused chuckle as I tossed all his school books into his backpack, zipped it up, and held it in my hand.

I stared back down at my little brother, who was still struggling to wake up.

That was another thing hunger did to you.

It clouded your world and made it difficult to focus.

"Come on buddy." I encouraged softly, crouching with my back in front of the kid and pulling his arms over my shoulders.

"I can walk De-" He slurred, even as he willingly climbed onto my back.

"I'm sure you can shortstop."

I frowned as I came to stand with ease.

Sam had always been small. Way too small for his own good.

Always getting picked on in school and always in extra danger on hunts because he was too damn tiny.

But he wasn't just short and skinny anymore.

The kid was practically skin and bones.

He weighed next to nothing and it scared the hell out of me.

"See you tomorrow."

I pulled my attention out from the dark thoughts long enough to nod in the older man's direction, ignoring his observant stare as I piggy-backed my brother out of the store and down the street.

Sam's swinging feet knocked against my legs, his hair ticking the side of my neck as I carried him back to the motel.

I was completely exhausted by the time we arrived, it would seem that Sam wasn't the only one suffering from the effects of hunger.

I had noticed how difficult it had been to complete the simple tasks Richard gave me. Each chore wearing me down physically in ways it wouldn't have just a few weeks ago.

I released a tired sigh as I unlocked our room door and carried Sammy inside, setting his back pack on the ground before walking over to the beds, moving to the one furthest from the door and gently placing the kid onto it.

My little brother roused long enough to clumsily help me pull of his shoes and smile up at me as I pulled the blankets up over his thin frame.

He let his eyes fall closed, but before he drifted back off to sleep he muttered a short sentence.

"Thanks for taking care o'me De."

I short sentence that shattered my fucking heart.

"Anytime Sammy." I replied past the lump that appeared instantly in my throat as I carded my fingers through his hair, brushing the long bangs from his face.

I frowned at the gaunt features and protruding cheekbones.

To other people Sam may just appear as one quiet, skinny-assed kid.

But I knew better.

I knew his face had always been much more circular than oval.

I knew that his dimpled cheeks were supposed to be filled with colour and have a chubby, baby-face quality to them.

I knew that his eyes were always meant to be alight and sparkling with joy and curiosity.

I knew that he was supposed to talk non-stop about everything he learned, everything that big brain of his took in.

I knew that he was supposed to fight sleep until the last possible second. Always pushing to stay up later and read one more chapter.

I knew that Sam was never supposed to be sullen, reserved, and completely worn out.

And the fact that he was, was a serious problem. One that needed to be rectified immediately.

It didn't matter how much longer it would be until Dad came home.

It didn't matter how achingly hungry and depleted I was.

What mattered was Sammy being okay.

So I would work my ass off at the store, and I would steal if it became necessary, and I would do whatever the hell I had to in order to take care of my little brother.

Because that was my job, but more than that, that was what kept me going.

That was the reason I got out of bed every morning.

That was the reason I refused to let the all-encompassing effects of hunger take over.

That was the reason I fought.

Taking care of Sammy, protecting him, being his big brother was what had kept be going everyday since I was four years of age.

And it was what still kept me going today.

And what would continue to keep me going everyday from now.

I would always be Sam's big brother.

I would always take care of him.

I would always protect him.

It was the reason I lived.

It was who I was, down to the very core of my being.

And I have always known, that no matter what happened, that would never change.

* * *

Note: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Please review/comment if you can spare a moment. I'd really appreciate it! - Sam


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